Why I Love Mah Honey-Man ~ Reason 60

Because we've been in the car now for nearly 7 hours for which he's patiently spent the last THREE hours listening to me sing loudly along to 65 different Laurie Berkner songs, with him sometimes chiming in and even inserting his own, um, special animal sound effects, all for our lil' sweet potato girlie's amusement.

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Why I Love Mah Honey-Man ~ Reason 59

Because he tries each day to match our baby sweet potato's shoes to her outfit for the day, and when he thinks he's chosen a particularly good match he'll make an effort to proudly point it out to me, to be sure I see our daughter benefiting from his good fashion sense (even though we all know his fashion sense is a bit iffy, which I guess why he's so proud of his better shoe pairing for her outfits!).

Cheshire Cat Costume!

Although we had a kind of late in the game switcheroo with our original planning, coordinating the Halloween costumes of the angel boy-O and our sweet potato girlie, I luckily found something acceptable and just in time! It should ship out shortly and arrive barely in time for our departure for Utah, Wednesday of next week. But lemme' tell ya, it was harder than I'd expected to score a toddler-sized Cheshire cat costume. The Disney Store doesn't even carry an adult version?!? One thing a bit amusing in my search... I found plenty of adult 'sexy Cheshire cat' costumes online, most including little enough fabric, they could maybe have fit our little baby girlie just fine! Instead, I went with this one: Just imagine this lil' blondie kitty as a little brunette and you'll have a good picture of what our lil' kitty-cat will look like.

Halloween Costumes for The Future, Present, and Past

Absolutely certain we'll have to dress our sweet potato girlie as Princess Leia at some point whether she'll want to or not... other Halloween consume ideas on her mommie's "Wish List of Halloween Costumes for The Future" (NOTE: I began writing this post the 8th of October):

Bumble Bee
Ladybug
Cheshire Cat
Pocahontas
Cowgirl
A Cookie or a Donut (and one of us parents can dress as a carton of milk!)
Witch
Red Devil
Tiger
Bunny Wabbit
Scarecrow
Dorothy from Wizard of Oz
Raggedy Ann

Hmmm... the above list requires she be willing to dress up for Halloween until she's 16 years old! We'll see about that.

She was a dragon last year (Smaug!) and the costume still kinda fits (just barely), so we were planning to reuse it, as the angel boy-O is certain - - make that was certain-- he'd be Frodo again for this Halloween. UPDATE: Just as I suspected, her big bro just returned home from a weekend at Disneyland with plans to be something else than Frodo: The Mad Hatter! Which is a fantastic idea... cuz perfectly enough, I now get to cross something off the lengthy "...Costumes for the Future" list: She'll be the Cheshire Cat!

Halloween Costumes of My Past: Note, I don't remember Halloween before my last year of preschool - - and the person who could tell me, who would remember, she isn't around anymore.

Age 4 or 5: Geisha girl wearing vermilion kimono with a floral and maple leaf printed pattern, and my hair spun in buns round on each side of my little head, complete with coral pink paper fans pinned therein.
Age 6: I'm really not sure - - I have no memory of either my Halloween costume, nor of trick-or-treating my kindergarten year. I would guess I was either a clown or a witch. I'm leaning towards circus clown. I do remember watching the older kids in my school's Halloween parade held in the upstairs gym though, and I remember thinking there sure were a lot of kids dressed as McDonald's 'Fry Guys.'
Age 7: I think I was either a clown or a witch -? Probably a clown again.
Age 8: Witch, I'm sure of it!
Age 9: I'm almost certain I was a witch again.
Age 10: Pat Benatar/Punk rocker - - far too much detail to explain this one. It was great and ridiculous all at once!
Age 11: Scarecrow - I hadn't liked this one at first, but by the night's end, I thought myself that I was freakin' adorable.
Age 12: At the time, I was going for a 'bum' look, donning old over-sized clothes and a scruffy brown hat, and I had a thin layer of Vaseline spread about my cheeks, chin and jawline, rubbed with coffee grounds (which were supplied by a neighbor, who's daughter, Kathleen, was also dressed as a bum as my trick-or-treating partner that year). The grounds were meant to inspire an unshaven look. We were out on our own until nearly 10pm. We thought we were the coolest.
Age 13: I was a Paisley Ghost - and my pillowcase of candy was stolen by some 15 year olds who rushed me. As I turned around to defend myself, it became utterly pointless with a stupid paisley bedsheet over my head, unable to see much detail.
Age 18: I'm fairly certain I did something, but I can't remember - - I should ask Mikie if she remembers.
Age 19: This one, only fellow Ricks College graduates would understand: I dressed as an early-married, early pregnant, Mormon Ricks College student, complete with a teeny, fine print floral patterned Sunday dress and a fake preggers belly - - Mind you, I didn't make it out the door dressed like that(not enough guts to do it), although 3 of my roommates with the same 'costume' went out and made a night of it that year.
Age 20: Zan, the boy-half of the Wonder Twins duo. This was the same Halloween a roomie and I decided to deck out all our friends from our apartment complex as superheros and villains, utilizing all sorts of creative arrangements and treatments of colored tights and long underwear, using both original purchase colors and dyed versions to match our needs, and various felt and/or satin appliques... We had Green Lantern, Poison Ivy, the Riddler, Cat Woman, Supergirl, Superman, Spiderman, Flash, Bat Girl, and Jayna, my other Wonder Twin half, roommate and fellow costume creator. And we all went out in public together as a group, each dressed in character, also behaving in character... like Chris, as Spiderman, who actually sprang atop a grocery cashier's checkout, looking out for Dr. Octopus, or James, as Flash, who ran 'Flash-style' up and down the grocery aisles when we had descended upon a Smith's grocery store in search of 35mm film when I'd run out. At check-out, film in hand, 'Flash' was nowhere to be found and the cashier actually used the store's PA system: "Flash to Checkout 10, Flash? Would Flash please return to the store front to Check out 10, Flash to check out 10." We also had dinner together at TGIFridays before our evening festivities truly began... Humpht. I guess by now I could have easily described the Pat Benatar costume from A to Z after this long-winded portion of my recounting costumes of the past.
Age 21: a Nerd from the 60s
Age 22: a Death bunny, all pasty faced with thick, black eyeliner, fake lashes, and black lipstick, wearing a long, straight, black-haired wig, a short, black velvet shift, and torn black pantyhose over burgundy tights, and a pair heavy heeled, black platform ankle boots. I was dressed like that all day long and it really freaked out a number of Provo, UT locals while I drove and walked about town.

This year I'm gunna be a witch whether the rest of the parents wanna dress up or not! So, I've got a little less than a month now to work on my witch cackle!

AGAIN: I began writing this October 8th...

Sooo My Witch Costume UPDATE: I have acquired a black gown with a scoop neck, elongated sleeves, and a hacked up hemline with a slit. I've also scored a black, kind of see-through cape with a hood that has a glittery purple-plum colored spider's web pattern printed all over it, and I've got some dark green and black striped tights to be worn with black, high-heeled ankle boots that don't reach beyond my ankle so that the tights will be more visible. The dark green of the tights is meant to compliment the green sheen seen in the plume of black feathers atop my witch's hat, which is a satiny black with a plum colored sheen to it, and also has 3 satiny plum colored fabric roses, front and center, and a black netted veil that hangs with little black plastic spiders here and there. The hat is what inspired this whole effort: It was my Grandma Joanie's witch's hat. I also have kind of Lady Liberty green costume makeup (more on the gray side than on turquoise) to be applied to any and all visible skin. Ohhh, and direct from Hong Kong (no really, I'm not kidding: post-marked from Hong Kong), I've got some long fake lashes that have a bit of purple feathers set to be aligned with the outside corners of my eyes. And then black lipstick.

Hummus aka Toots!

If you have zero tolerance for talk of bodily functions, this post ain't for you.

I'm not sure how to offer any background info on this one... How to even explain the significance without totally ratting out my honey-man? Hmmm, I'll try to keep it simple, minimum details.

Last night our lil' sweet potato was in a mood, kinda whiney, a bit sulky, a somewhat uncooperative = she was a very tired toddler. And it could of been far worse. There wasn't any spontaneous bursting into tears, no wait, that's not true, that happened twice. Anyhow, I'm rambling. The point is this: She wasn't her best last night, feelin' not so hot, very tired, and when's she's tired, she tends to be a little clingy, which means she's either right at my feet or in my arms at all times.

When it's her bathtime, soon after her dinner, she gets a chance to try her potty. Well, last night, not feeling so great, she required that I sit right beside her the entire time while she did her duty. Sooo, sitting side by side, she on her potty, me on the bathroom floor, my back against the wall, with her little face less than a foot away from mine, give or take, she took her sweet time. I tell you this so you can well imagine how close we were, and how well she could easily turn and look up into my face, talking to me as she sat on her potty.

Sooo, she's sitting on her froggie potty seat and she's singing and humming and talking about poo-poo and pee-pee and Elmo and Elmo on the potty, and I'm watching her and listening to her. She was sitting there for 5 or more minutes (which is a long time for a toddler), so I began to ask her if she'd gone poopie yet or pee-pee, and "Are we all done? No? Maybe next time?" She turns to me with this look on her face, chin down, eyebrows up, eyes wide, and she lets loose a long string of 'toots' (aka farts). Seeing this look of alarm on her darling face, I say "Ahhh, toots! Fluffies! You're tooting." And then she says to me with a look of pure confidence, like she's telling me how it really is:

"Hummusss" [spoken with long, drawn out emphasis placed on the 's']

I look at her all confused, not certain I've heard her right. She quickly repeats herself with 100% certainty, this time shortening the 's' sound some:

"Hummus."

I ask her, "Hummus?""

With great enthusiasm, she turns to me as she tries to stand from her potty seat, and with her little mug mere inches from mine, she toots some more, now standing in my lap, and she squeals and claps:

"Hummus!!!"

Still a bit perplexed, but laughing now in response, I ask her again, "Hummus?" - - she conquers, nodding her head emphatically, tooting some more almost as if in response.

She turns from me and sits again on her potty, toots a last time, and nodding confidently, she turns to me once more and tells me "Hummus."

Okay, so what the heck was that? Here's my 100% certain theory: Whenever any one of us in our home eats hummus, there is some seriously flatulent consequences to follow within 24 hours of consumption. Same goes for our lil' sweet potato girlie. Well, once those consequences show up, whether it's me or my honey-man, we'll speak aloud the simple one-word explanation for all the, um, tooting, saying nothing more: "Hummus"

Apparently, our observant toddler has picked up on this.

My Lil' Dreamboat

Cheesy as this may sound, there's nothing more serenely satisfying to me than watching my lil' babe peacefully sleep. See, when she's sleeping, she's not running around, neither squawking nor squealing; she's lying there quiet and still, and it is precisely the latter point which is most significant amongst the aforementioned 'well duh' observations about sleeping children... When she's motionless, sleeping, I can adoringly gaze upon her, scanning over every feature, every tiny detail of her physical being, and I find her to be deliciously cute and perfectly whole. Gratitude floods my being and I cannot contain my pride and joy whenever I find the chance to spy her moments of contented sleep.

Naah, I'm not biased, no way!

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Our Weekend Project with The Angel Boy-O: Done!

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